Captured Cries
by AlexaNDYE
Summary: Brennan sends Booth to the hospital after a horrible and devastating kidnap. What happened when they were kidnapped? How did they get kidnapped? Why was Booth the only one who got brutally tortured?
1. Chapter 1

Booth sat in the hospital bed with his head against the soft blue pillows. He glanced over at his side and saw Brennan sitting there. She looked up at him with an expression filled with sorrow. Her eyes didn't express happiness knowing that he was okay. Her hair was a little messy, probably because she had been sleeping in the same chair she was sitting in for the past couple hours.

"Don't look at me like that, Bones." He told her with a slight whine in his tone.

"How can I not, Booth? You and I both know the reason why you're in the hospital is because of me." Her eyes slowly looked down.

"Hey, _none_ of this is _your_ fault." He told her, adjusting himself in his bed. His left arm was in a sling and half of his ribs were broken. He winced in pain as his shoulder started throbbing. _Is my shoulder broken too?_

"The doctors said that you'll be staying here for a week or two." She informed him.

"A week!?" he furrowed his eyebrows. "There's no way I'm staying here for a week. Can't you pull some strings or at least tell them you'll be taking care of me?"

"Taking care of you? Booth, I'm not a babysitter and besides, you can barely move. You _should_ stay here for a week." Brennan crooked the side of her mouth and watched as Booth looked away.

"Bones…" He whined. "…You know I hate hospitals."

"Booth." She said in a regretful tone. "What happened to you shook me."

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Mr. Rot told those men to kill me, not you!" She said pretty loudly.

Booth, surprised and a little disoriented from the fluids shooting up his veins, looked at her with his mouth ajar. "I'm your partner, Bones. It's _my_ job to protect you—"

"Yes, protect me, but you went too far, Booth." She said with anger pumping in her blood.

"How did I go too far!? The man was going to kill you. I couldn't let that happen!"

"Why not!? It's not like my life matters when we're both captured and our hands tied with rope."

Booth looked at her in awe and slowly shook his head. "Don't ever say that."

"What? That my life doesn't matter?" She tested his patience. "Booth, your life is much more important than mine. You're an ex-sniper, you're an FBI agent and you've saved dozens of lives—"

"With your help!" he cut her off. "Bones, I don't care if the killer tries to kill both of us. I'd rather be killed first so you can live longer."

"Why?" She asked. "If the killer wants to murder us both, why would it matter if my lifespan were extended?"

"Because you deserve every minute to be alive." He responded. He winced in pain as his heavy breathing made sides hurt. His ribs were horrible and he knew it'd take at least a couple months to recover one hundred percent.

"Are you okay?" She asked in a low, sweet voice.

"Yeah." He gasped. "When half of your ribs are broken, it becomes a real pain in the butt to breathe."

"This is why you should stay in the hospital." She told him, the corner of her mouth slacked to the side.

"Why did you say that?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Bones. Why'd you say that crap about dying?" He glared at her. "You've saved countless lives with and without me. Both of us deserve to live, neither one of us wantsed to die and even if we did die back there, people would continue catching the bad guys."

"It just…" She started out. "…When they tried to kill you, Booth, it was hard for me."

"Hard for you to see me get hurt? You've seen me get beaten up before…" He glanced over at her.

"But never before like _that_." She slowly looked up at him. "Hearing your ribs crack and seeing the blood fall down your forehead… blood pooling at the abdomen..."

Booth, with a gloomy expression, looked away, hoping that the vivid images would stop forming in his mind.

"Then…" Brennan tried to hold her emotions in but the corners of her eyes had already shown it. "…then they dislocated your arm and just the painful tone of your voice—"

"Stop." He told her, looking down heavily at her. Brennan looked up at him with hurt in her eyes. "Stop it, Bones."

"It's my fault you're in here, Booth." She shook her head. "If I didn't bother you about the shiny piece of metallic substance we found at the crime scene, we would've never arrived there and we would've never been kidnapped."

"It'll never be your fault." He told her with a slight smile. "No matter how hard you want it to be… it'll never be _your_ fault."

"You're never going to let it be, are you?" She slightly shook her head with a smile.

"Never." He breathed.

"I should go." Brennan said a few minutes into silence. She looked around for her purse but Booth's hand caught hers. She looked up at him, wishing he never did that. She knew how much pain he was in through his eyes. Even moving his good arm made him wince.

"Don't." He gasped.

"Cam, Angela, Hodgins and Wendell will need my help in catching the murderer." She told him, trying to escape from his grasp but he held on tight.

"Stay with me, Bones. They'll call you if they need your help." He told her.

"But—"

"Stay. Keep me company and maybe get some pudding for me?" He hinted with a slight smile.

Brennan slowly widened her smile. She nodded and felt his hand slide off hers. She got up and walked to the cafeteria, looking for some pudding cups. Booth sat there and slowly closed his eyes knowing that when he woke up, his comforting partner would be there beside him.

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Brennan followed Booth down the Forensic platform and towards the door. She had already slid her latex gloves off and placed them on the metal rack. Cam, Hodgins and Wendell were diligently working on the metallic substance that was found at the scene of the crime. They had identified the victim as Joseph Rot. Prime suspects were Joseph Rot's brother, Kamp Rot and a couple of Kamp's friends, Roy Match, Fred Jock, Maxwell Loop and Jim Erie.

"C'mon Booth, I'm telling you, _in that_ house's basement is what we're really looking for." Brennan tried to tell him.

"No, Bones, first, we call for back-up and _then_ we can scour for whatever we're looking for." He told her.

"But the killer might've already taken what we needed." She nagged him. "C'mon Booth, we've investigated without back-up plenty of times."

"Yeah, and some of those times, our lives flashed before our very eyes." He walked towards the door but felt Brennan pull on his arm. He turned around to face her.

"It'll only take five minutes." She told him. "We get in, look for the metallic rod and get out."

"Easier said than done." He placed his hands on his hip. "What makes you think it's in Kamp's basement?"

"Trust me, he works with metallic rods which he claims to be nickel based but most of them aren't. Wendell took a few photos and Hodgins analyzed them. The shape and form of the rods would've never been like that if they were nickel based." She tried to persuade him.

"So you're saying the metallic rod was used to kill Joseph Kamp."

"Yes." She nodded. "He killed his own brother."

"That's jumping to a conclusion, Bones. I thought you said you hated doing that." He smirked and turned around. Brennan trailed behind him.

"_I do_ hate doing that." She stopped in her tracks and watched as he turned to face her again. "That wasn't 'jumping to a conclusion, I was merely stating an observation."

"Fine, we'll go to his house _with a warrant_ and search the basement. Get in, get out, and get this case done. Okay?" He saw Brennan's lips form a wide smile.

"Okay." She nodded.

"Hurry up before Cullen calls me back to the office." He turned to walk out the door. Brennan quickly took off her lab coat and placed it on her office desk chair. She met Booth in his SUV, in hopes that this case will turn out to be clean and simple.

Booth and Brennan arrived at Kamp Rot's house. The house was beautifully decorated on the exterior with vine trails and red roses. The white walls complemented the flowers wonderfully. The interior was beautiful too, but the stench of a murderer still lingered.

They didn't have enough evidence to arrest Kamp but they did have the enormous power of a warrant. Booth and Brennan climbed out of the SUV and made their way to the front door.

"Okay, listen, Bones. We get in and get out. You search as fast as you can." He whispered to her in demand.

"Why are you rushing the procedure, Booth?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

"Because…" He responded. "…my gut has a bad feeling about this whole entire thing."

"That sounds pretty bad knowing the reputation of your gut." Brennan glanced over at him.

"Yeah, so make it fast." He looked at her and began to straighten his tie. They stopped at the front door; Booth sternly knocked on the door and waited until someone answered it.

Kamp looked through the peep hole and reluctantly opened the door. He looked at the pair and smiled gently. He was about Booth's height, just a little under, and his light brown hair shined in the sunlight. His casual white shirt, blue jeans, silver wrist watch and white socks made him look like a natural resident.

"May I help you, Agent Booth?"

Booth took out the warrant. "We have a warrant to search your house."

Kamp took the paper from his hands and glanced down at it. "A warrant to search for what?"

"For those nickel based metallic rods." Brennan responded.

Kamp looked up at them, stood out of the way and held the door open. With a short smile and a glance at Brennan, he said, "I have nothing to hide. Come on in."

Booth stepped in first and then Brennan. Booth eyed Kamp, making sure he wasn't ogling his partner or getting weird thoughts. He placed his hand on his partner's shoulder and guided her to the basement. Once they stepped in, Kamp closed the door and graciously followed them. He trailed behind them and watched as Brennan opened the door and walked down the stairs. Booth followed her before he eyed Kamp again. They both walked down the wooden stairs.

Brennan took out tweezers from her brown bag and found one of the metallic rods sitting on the floor. She picked the rod up and scraped at it. There was no nickel base underneath the layer of the metallic substance. She looked at Booth, Booth looked at Kamp and Kamp simply smiled.

"Okay, Kamp, I'm going to have to place you under—" Before Booth could finish, someone from the shadows hit him hard on the head with one of the rods. Booth fell down hard on the ground.

"Booth!" Brennan shrieked. Another man came out from the shadows of the basement corners and smothered her with a cloth. Brennan's body fell to the floor.

Kamp looked at the two. Two more men came out from the shadows. All four them looked up at Kamp.

"What should we do with them?" Fred Jock asked.

"Take Agent Booth's gun and his spare gun. Grab Dr. Brennan's bag and tools. Tie them up and bring their belongings to me." With that said, Kamp turned around and walked towards the living room.

"Man, if we get caught, we're going to be in prison for a long time." Jim took Booth's holster and gun.

"That's _if_ we get caught." Maxwell glanced at him and took Brennan's brown bag. He opened it up and found a picture stashed in the inside pocket. He pulled it out and curiously looked at it. "I'm guessing this is her boyfriend?"

Roy walked over to Maxwell and glanced at the picture. "No you dunce, that isn't her boyfriend, that's her partner." They both looked at Booth's body, lying on the ground and unconscious.

"Why would she have a picture of _him_?" Jim scornfully replied.

"Maybe she likes him?" Roy laughed.

"We all know that Kamp is going to make us kill them, right?" Fred asked, walking over Booth's body to join the other men.

"Yeah." Roy nodded. "As usual."

"Fred and Roy can start tying them up. Maxwell and I will bring their stuff to Kamp and join you guys later." Jim told the group before heading up the stairs. Maxwell trailed behind him.

Fred heavily sighed and got some rope from the pile in the corner. Kamp was a ladder maker. He wasn't successful in his business but he did make enough money each year. The rods were used as the bars in the sections and the rope was to tie the rods together.

Roy forcefully took Booth's arms and slapped his wrists together. Fred tightly tied the rope around Booth's wrists. Fred went back to get another piece of rope for Brennan while Roy made Booth sit up against the wall near the wooden staircase. Booth's head slumped forward. Once Roy and Fred did the same thing to Brennan, they walked back upstairs to see what their next job was.

Truth is, they were lackeys, thugs, henchmen, slaves or just bored people that needed a boss to answer to. All four of them were Kamp's friends but they weren't best friends. All four of them also knew his brother, Joseph Rot. Neither one of them were the best in their field. Roy and Maxwell studied Marine Biology but never took the action to make the best out of it. Fred studied the Culinary Arts while Jim studied the finance business. Neither one of them tried to do anything with their professions. Kamp never paid them for their 'services'. All four of them did what he wanted them to do simply because he was their friend.

Kamp stood there in front of the living room window with his finger rubbing his chin. Jim and Maxwell, sitting on the couch, turned to look at Fred and Roy. The two walked towards Kamp and stopped in front of him.

"What now?" Jim asked, glancing at Brennan's brown bag that sat on the table in front of them.

Kamp turned around, making Maxwell and Jim both stand up at the same time. Kamp looked at all four of them and quietly nodded.

"Kill them." Kamp said calmly. He walked towards the front door with a slight frown on his face.

"What do you want us to do when we're done?" Maxwell asked.

"I'll be back in ten minutes." Kamp turned his head to look at them. All four of them walked towards the basement door. Maxwell, Jim and Fred didn't like killing. They did it because they had to. On the other hand, Roy had a thirst for blood. He was the only one in the group that practiced Karate during their childhood. He was kicked out a month after he had gotten his black belt for using Karate as an offensive option.

Brennan sat there wide awake. She felt a little dizzy but the dizziness didn't keep her from nudging Booth. She tipped herself over, trying to wake him up but every time her elbow touched his forearm, he didn't stir.

"C'mon, Booth, wake up!" She whispered. Brennan tipped herself over once more and knocked her head against his shoulder.

"Huh?" Booth fluttered his eyes opened and shook his head. He glanced down at his side and saw Brennan's head on his shoulder. She got back into her seated position and watched as Booth rapidly took a visual check.

"What the—where are we?" He asked.

"We're still in the basement." She responded and saw something moist on the back of his head. "Booth…"

"Yeah?" He winced in pain.

"Is your head bleeding?" She asked. Their eyes locked in silence. Her face was washed with worry.

"I think so…" He winced in pain again. "…Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" He quickly asked, showing how much he worried about her safety.

"They didn't physically knock me out like they did to you." She informed him. "Does your head hurt?"

"I have a huge headache if that's what you're asking." He responded. He tried to break free from the rope that tied his wrists together but nothing worked. He tested the strength of the rope one more time and glanced over at his partner.

"I tried earlier." She responded, knowing what he was going to ask her next.

"Damn it." He cursed. He tried to calm down and think of a plan but just the thought of figuring out how to break free made his headache even worse.

Brennan's hands skimmed across the wall behind her. She heavily sighed and turned to Booth. "The walls don't have any loose nails or some kind of sharp tool we could use to cut our bonds."

"Not every kidnap movie has those, Bones." He glanced at her.

"I don't watch movies, Booth." She told him. He looked at her in a way that made it seem like he didn't believe her. "Okay, I've seen a couple movies but none of them involved a kidnap."

"How are we going to get out of here?" Booth angrily asked.

"You can't." Jim responded while walking down the wooden staircase. Fred, Maxwell and a devilishly smiling Roy trailed behind him.

Booth looked up at him and angrily growled. "What, are you going to kill us?"

Roy gave Booth a right hook. His fist made contact with Booth's cheek. Booth's head slid towards Brennan, making her gasp.

"Booth!" She shrieked.

"Don't make me hit you, too." Roy turned to look at her. There was a smile on his face, a smile that only a blood thirsty killer would carry and surely, Booth knew what exactly was on his mind twenty-four seven.

Booth shifted back to his regular position and calmly looked up at Roy. Roy was about to punch Booth in the face again but Fred placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Roy, stop." He told him.

Roy turned around and angrily looked at Fred. "Why should I? We were given orders to kill them."

"Can't you learn to have some fun?" Maxwell folded his arms across his chest.

"Shut up!" Roy yelled. "I'm the one who always ends up killing the damn people!"

"Stop fighting you two." Jim pressed his hand against Roy's chest, making sure that he stayed quite a distance from Maxwell.

Maxwell was Caucasian. He had chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. He didn't look buff nor skinny, he seemed average to most people, including Kamp and the other three.

Roy was Filipino. He had black hair, dark brown eyes and a thirst for violence. His biceps were slightly smaller than Booth's but it didn't stop people from thinking he was a man who often lifted weights.

Jim was Caucasian. He had black hair, brown eyes and a clam attitude. He wasn't the type of person to put much enthusiasm into his actions. He liked taking the easy way out and often lets the others do all the work. He wasn't lazy nor was he bored. He just wanted to move on to the next task as soon as possible.

Fred was Caucasian as well. He had brown hair, green hazel eyes and a slightly reassuring smile. He didn't like hurting people as much as Roy but he did want a shot at it.

Roy ignored Jim and began to angrily stare at Maxwell. "Fine, if you're going to be like that, then hit one of them already." He dared Maxwell.

"Let's kill Dr. Brennan first." Maxwell grinned. "I want to see her partner suffer."

Booth widened his eyes in fear. He glanced over at Brennan and saw the shock in her expression. Her mouth was ajar and her eyes were filled with terror. He whipped his head around to face the group but before he could say anything, Fred held out something to their faces.

Brennan looked at the object and began to slowly swallow.

"Want to tell me why you have a picture of him?" Fred asked with a calm voice. He didn't smile nor did he frown. It was as if he had played poker his whole entire life.

Booth glanced at the picture and then at Brennan. He was speechless. His partner had kept a picture of him this whole entire time. _Why? Why would she keep a picture of me?_ The picture was taken by Angela. She gave it to her last year and told her to keep it. Although, Brennan never wanted to but the more she carried it with her, the more confidence and reassurance she had within herself. It was as if he was there with her all the time. She hated to admit it but she liked it when he was around her. A feeling she couldn't describe would always surface.

"You have a picture of me?" Booth asked her, ignoring the fact that they might die soon.

Brennan turned her head to look at him but did not respond. Her lips formed a slight smile. That was all she could do; words could not explain why she kept the photo. She herself didn't _really_ know why. She _just_ kept it.

Roy snatched the photo from Fred's hand and threw it to the side. "Would you hurry up and kill the damn woman?"

Fred glanced over at Roy in a calm manner. Roy had already begun to get annoyingly pissed off.

"We have ten minutes to kill them. Isn't that enough time for you?" Fred smirked.

"If they're not killed in nine minutes then I'll kill them myself." Roy growled.

"Patience." Jim responded. "You can rough them up all you want. Just make sure that you won't spill too much blood in the process. I don't want to have to clean up the basement again."

Maxwell walked behind Brennan and yanked on the rope that tied her wrists together. He was about to pull her in front of Booth, to make him suffer first, but he protested.

"Wait!" Booth shouted. Brennan glanced over at him, curious to what he was trying to do.

"What in the world do _you_ want now? We'll kill you after her, don't worry." Maxwell rolled his eyes.

"Please, don't kill her. Kill me." Booth looked up at them. Brennan widened her eyes and wanted to shout in objection but something held on to those words at the tip of her tongue.

Roy went up to Booth and grabbed his neck. His grip wasn't hard but it was painful for Brennan to watch. Maxwell let go of Brennan's binding and made his way towards Booth.

"There's only first and second, Agent Booth." Roy taunted him. He released his neck and waited for Maxwell to drag Booth to the center of the basement. Once his body laid there on the ground, all four of them took turns punching his face and kicking his stomach.

Booth's eyes were set on Brennan. Maxwell specifically dragged his body to the group so that Booth and Brennan would lock eyes. His chocolate brown eyes stared deep into her ocean blue eyes. Her mouth went ajar when the first punch was thrown at his face.

_Booth!_ She couldn't watch but her head wouldn't turn on her command. Her eyelids wouldn't shut and her mouth wouldn't close. All she could do was watch as all four of them broke some of his ribs and his shoulder.

Roy threw a fury of punches at Booth's face making blood trail down from the corner of his mouth. Once Maxwell and Jim took a turn at Booth's face, he began to spew out blood. As he winced in pain, his mouth opened for a second to stifle a scream. In that one second, Brennan saw the blood that coated his teeth.

Fred kicked Booth in the back. The power and force that was put into that one kick was immense. It made Booth muffle a painful scream. His eyes were closed for only a second. Once he opened them, he only saw one thing; Brennan's eyes were widened in shock and fear. He could tell that her mind was crumbling under the view of him getting brutally beat up.

Roy cracked his knuckles and devilishly smiled. He went around to Booth's front side and kicked him in the stomach over and over. Booth winced in pain every time. The first kick, he closed his eyes. The second kick made him grind his teeth together. The third kick to the stomach made more blood drip down from the corner of his mouth. Roy kicked him again but not in the stomach. He aimed for Booth's rip cage and sure enough, Booth felt two of his ribs crack.

He held back a scream. His eyes lay on Brennan's, neither of them were sure of each other's thoughts.

_Why can't I close my eyes? Why is he staring at me?_ Brennan thought. Her eyes trailed down to Booth's stomach. She saw blood forming on his white casual dress shirt. Someone gave him a painful kick in the calf. Booth winced in pain.

He didn't want Brennan to hear him. He knew, if she heard him scream in pain, in helplessness and in agony, then it'd forever be in her mind. He hated the fact that she witnessed him getting beat up by a couple of thugs.

Roy felt his knuckles tingle with sensation. He punched Booth in the jaw again and felt blood spurt out onto the floor.

Jim heavily sighed. "Roy, I told you not to get blood on the damn ground. I'm going to be the one cleaning all the crap up."

"Oh would you stop whining!" Roy angrily growled at him.

While the four were arguing, Booth opened his eyes. He saw Brennan's scared expression. Her mouth was ajar, as if a car crash had just happened in front of her. Her eyes were the size of oranges. She closed her mouth to slowly swallow but it when ajar again.

Booth began to smile. He tried to reassure her that he'd be okay. He tried so hard but nothing got through to her. Brennan just kept on staring.

Maxwell stepped in between Roy and Jim. He pushed both of them apart. "That's enough you two. We're supposed to be doing our job but instead you're both acting like immature brats."

"Fine." Roy growled. He grabbed the switchblade that sat next to the pile of rope and walked towards Booth. He looked down at his bleeding body and smiled devilishly. "If you want to make it quick—"

"You guys still haven't killed them yet?" Kamp asked from the top of the wooden staircase.

Roy, Jim, Fred and Maxwell all turned their heads to stare at him. Had ten minutes really past? Kamp looked down at them and heavily sighed.

"I was going to…" Roy lowered the switchblade. "…Give me two seconds. I'll kill them both!"

"No." Kamp shook his head.

All four of them looked up at him in shock. "No?" Jim furrowed his eyebrows.

"The FBI are on to us; we'll have to leave as soon as possible."

"But—" Roy tried to protest.

"If you want to get caught, then stay here." Kamp responded sternly. He glared at Roy before turning to walk away.

Jim, Fred and Maxwell all started to walk up the wood stairs but Roy stayed back for a bit. Jim turned around and glared at Roy. "Are you coming or what?"

"Let me just do one more thing." Roy walked towards Booth and held the switchblade to his back.

Brennan widened her eyes and wanted to scream out Booth's name, thinking that he was going to kill him. Booth didn't look back. He just kept his eyes on his partner, trying to make his lips form that charmed smile she always liked.

Roy cut the rope that held Booth's wrists together. Fred widened his eyes in curiosity. "What the hell are you doing, Roy!?"

"Just hold on." Roy responded. He grabbed Booth's left arm. He bent it back before he widened that devilish smile of his.

In a split second, all hell broke loose. Brennan widened her eyes as she heard Booth's arm crack. He let out a loud scream, one that shook the walls in all directions. Roy snickered once he heard the loud crack.

Booth couldn't help but scream. His arm slumped in front of him, his eyes wouldn't open because of the immense pain, his mouth wouldn't shut and the pain wouldn't subside.

Fred widened his eyes in fear. He had never seen Roy act like that before. The blood thirsty killer walked up the stairs and towards them. All three of them tried to ignore what just happened but they couldn't. When they closed the basement door, they still heard Booth's scream.

Booth eventually stopped screaming. He couldn't feel his left arm, he couldn't move it. He tried to dig out his right arm from underneath but felt his body roll over. His chest hit the cool cement ground with a thud. His stomach was throbbing in pain and his ribs felt horrible. He was in no shape to move but he had to make sure his partner was alright.

He looked up at her and saw the horrible fear in her eyes. He crawled towards her, inch by inch. He was in unbearable pain.

"Bones." He gasped.

Brennan didn't answer. Her mouth still ajar and her eyes still wide, fear washed over her face. The unbearable sound of Booth screaming in agony replayed over and over in her head.

"Bones." He gasped again.

Brennan looked down at him. Something clicked in her head. Her thoughts came down to earth and the words seemed to easily slip from the tip of her tongue.

"Booth…" She breathed.

"Hang on." He tried to crawl to her. He used his one arm and his two legs. _Could things get any worse?_

"You shouldn't move." She told him. "You'll lose more blood—"

"Turn around so I can untie the rope." He cut her off.

"You won't be able to, they're too tight—"

"Just turn around, Bones." He ordered her.

Brennan pressed her lips together and scooted around. She looked at the concrete wall in front of her and felt his hand graze against her forearm. His touch was warm and reassuring. All the torture and pain he went through and he still had the strength to crawl towards her to untie her rope.

Booth winced in pain as his shoulder throbbed. He tried the best he could to untie the rope that bind her wrists together. In a matter of minutes, he finally got her free. Brennan felt the rope slide off her hands and onto the floor. Booth's arm fell to the floor in defeat.

Brennan turned around and quietly rushed to his aid. He looked up at her with a slight smile.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She breathed a laugh and tried to hold back the tears. "I should be asking you that."

"I feel just dandy." He joked with a slight smile. Brennan smiled back and helped him roll over. She placed her hand on the side of his chest and flipped him over. He stifled a small scream as his sides throbbed in pain.

Brennan winced at his painful expression. "Most of your ribs are probably fractured."

"I figured that much." He gasped and looked up at her. She looked down at the smeared blood on the concrete floor and then at Booth's stomach. His small smile turned into a worried frown.

"Bones…"

"We have to get out of here." She looked at their surroundings.

Booth tried to stand up but he could barely get his upper half to rise. "If I can just get to the door – I'm sure I can break it down or—" He winced in pain and felt Brennan's hands on his back.

"You shouldn't be moving around, Booth. Just lie down and try to take it easy. The more you move the more blood you'll lose." She informed him.

"But we have to get out of here…" He felt his upper body slump back onto the concrete.

"I'll try to find a way out. If my bag is around here, I can call for the ambulance and we can get you to the hospital." She stood up but Booth's right arm caught her ankle.

She curiously looked down at him.

"What about Kamp and those other guys? What about them? We can't just let them get away like that—"

"I don't care about them, Booth. We _need_ to get you to the hospital."

"Bones, they're murderers on the loose. If we let them get away then we might not be able to find them again. And besides, I'm fine—" He tried to get up but it was no use.

"You can barely move." She sighed.

"Just give me a minute to recover." He heavily breathed.

"Stay here." She walked up the wooden staircase and tried to turn the doorknob but the door was locked.

"Is it locked?" Booth asked loudly.

"Yeah." Brennan responded. "I could try to break down the door—"

"Don't. It's harder than it looks, Bones." He smirked.

"What are we going to do then?" Brennan walked down the wooden staircase and heavily sighed. She walked over to Booth and sat down beside him. She glanced down at his stomach and saw the blood seeping through his white casual shirt. His dislocated left arm was on top of the blood but since he couldn't move it there was no pressure to stop the bleeding.

"I'll be fine." He tried to reassure her.

"We need to get you to a hospital…"

"I've been through worse. This is nothing." He tried to form a smile.

Brennan glanced in the other direction, she saw her bag and Booth's guns sitting in the corner of the basement. She furrowed her eyebrows and got up to get them. Booth raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Bones? Bones, where're you going?" He asked, turning his head to follow her.

Brennan kneeled down to her bag and rummaged through it. It wasn't a mirage and it wasn't a hallucination. It was real. Booth's guns, the tweezers, her cell phone and his cell phone, _it was all real_.

She turned on her cell phone. As her eyes lay on the four bars of service, a smile drew across her face. She turned to show him her smile of hope. She ran back to kneel beside him.

"What is it?" He asked.

"You're going to be okay." She told him. She dialed 911 on her phone and pressed it to her ear. Brennan looked down at him and placed a reassuring hand on his right arm – his good arm.

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His eyes fluttered open. Booth felt his shoulder throb. The pain killers weren't doing much work and his left arm was still in that darn sling. He leaned forward to get into a comfortable position but it felt like his ribs were punching themselves. He rested his head back into the pillows with a painful expression on.

He glanced down at the tray desk that hovered over his hospital bed and saw a pudding cup sitting next to a spoon.


	2. Chapter 2

Booth slowly extended his arm. He winced in pain as his broken shoulder felt even worse. He tried to grab the spoon before the pudding cup. He felt the weight on his arm increase. He was a centimeter away from the spoon but someone grabbed the pudding cup.

"Here, let me help you with that." Angela said with a smile. She sat down on the chair.

"Angela." He gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Brennan called and asked if she could help with the investigation." She responded. She opened the pudding cup, handed it to Booth and then handed the spoon to him.

"Thanks." Booth slightly smiled. His left arm that was in the sling held the pudding cup while his right arm held the spoon. He fed himself a spoonful of pudding; that delicious wonderful pudding. Oh it was so good.

"How are you feeling?" Angela asked with a sympathetic expression.

"Like a herd of elephants just ran over me." He responded.

"Well the pain killers are working, right?"

"Kind of." Booth slightly nodded. "So Bones wanted to run away to her comfort zone?"

"She called me and she seemed kind of desperate to get out of here." Angela paused for a second. She hit his arm lightly.

"What the—What was that for?" Booth furrowed his eyebrows.

"You shooed her away, didn't you?" Angela angrily looked up at him.

"I did not 'shoo' her away." He shook his head. "I asked her to get me a pudding cup and then I fell asleep. When I woke up the pudding cup was in front of me but she wasn't."

"Then why'd she _want_ to work on the investigation?"

"You're asking the wrong person, Angela." He slightly smiled.

"I should go ask her." She told herself.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked, finishing his pudding cup.

Angela nodded. "Sure, what is it?"

"Did you know that Bones kept a picture of me?" He turned his head to look at her. He furrowed his eyebrows in the most curious way.

"Uh – no…" She hesitated.

Booth widened his eyes. "You did! You knew she knew that picture of me!" He wanted to dart his index finger at her but he couldn't even lift his good arm thanks to his broken shoulder.

Angela crooked the side of her mouth. "Yes, I knew but I never knew she'd _actually_ keep it."

"What do you mean?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Angela shuffled her hands in her lap and heavily sighed. She had to come clean, she _had_ to explain all of her concepts and analyzed theories; worst of all, she might have to explain to him what her actions meant. She didn't want to have to explain to either of them their own feelings for each other. It was the worst way a love story should ever unfold; being told about the intangible feelings you have for the other person.

"When I gave her that picture, I didn't think she'd actually keep it. I mean, I've take pictures of you at random times and I've given them to her numerous times – now I just sound like a stalker." Angela gave herself a weird look.

Booth shook the feeling off. "Just keep going Angela."

"Okay." She nodded. "When I gave Brennan that picture I thought she would either throw it away or put it on my desk when I'm not looking."

"Did she usually put them on your desk?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"But she kept this one?"

"I guess so." Angela widened her eyes. "I mean, she never told me she kept it. It never appeared on my desk so I assumed she threw it away. According to you, she kept it close to her heart."

"I never said she 'kept it close to her heart'." He took her comment intangibly.

"Use your head G-man." Angela started to smile. "In her own way, she kept the picture close to her heart."

"I hate it when you squints try to talk like me." He sighed.

"I am _not_ trying to talk like you. Believe me, I'd execute my mockery in a different tone." Angela widened her smile.

"So Bones wanted that picture?"

"Booth, I think you should let this one go." She crooked the side of her mouth.

"Why?" He asked with an innocent tone.

"Because even if you do ask her – I know people say 'never say never' but… Brennan will never admit her feelings to you. She's not that type of person."

"Admit her feelings to me?"

"You know she loves you, I know she loves you, Sweets and Gordon Gordon both know she loves you – she's just not the type of person to say it freely. You just have to keep on pushing her but sometimes, when you push her you don't know if she's taking one step forward or two steps back." She tried to explain.

"I wouldn't hurt to just ask her, right?" He frowned.

"You want me to ask her?" Angela raised an eyebrow.

"No." He quickly responded.

"Why not?"

"I've already tried to ask her." He looked away, hoping that Angela wouldn't ask anymore questions.

"Did she give you an answer?" Her curiosity got the best of her.

"Kind of…" Booth furrowed his eyebrows.

"Well what did she—" Angela got interrupted by her phone. It vibrated in her pants pocket. Booth looked over and watched her answer it. He nodded in approval and Angela pressed the phone to her hear.

"Angela." She answered. She looked up at Booth and saw the curious look on his face. She felt bad about his curiosity. _Who wouldn't be curious about your best friend AND partner keeping a photo of you beyond your consent?_

"Hey, Ange." Brennan answered.

"Oh hi, Bren." She watched Booth's face light up.

"Is that Bones?" He asked her.

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

"What?" Brennan asked.

"I wasn't talking to you, Bren. I was talking to Booth."

"Oh." Brennan nodded. "Tell him I said hi."

"Brennan says hi, Booth." She told him.

Booth nodded and happily smiled. He felt the pit of his stomach warm up. He looked out of his window and watched the birds fly away. The sky looked blue. Not just a sky blue. It looked like a solid blue. His eyes slowly closed. The soothing sound of Angela talking to Brennan on the phone and the colorful sky that presented itself to him, he couldn't help but drift off to sleep.

As his eyes closed he heard the last few words of Angela's phone conversation.

"The FBI took over the case?"

FLASH BACK ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Booth lay there on the cool cement. Brennan was kneeling beside him. Her hand was on his hip. Booth's good arm – his right arm moved slightly. He placed his own hand on hers. Brennan looked down at him and quietly smiled.

"How you holding up?" She asked with light laugh.

"Hurts." Booth gasped. He winced in pain once he felt the back of his calf throb. His grip on her hand increased.

"The paramedics will be here soon. I called Cam, too." She tried to reassure him.

"It took us like what… twenty minutes to get here?" Booth looked up at her.

Brennan stared into the distance before she nodded. "Around twenty minutes." She glanced down at him with a concerned look on her face. "Are you going to be okay until then?"

"I should be." He nodded.

She looked down at his stomach and saw blood splotch on his white casual shirt. "We should stop the bleeding or else you'll pass out."

"We don't have anything to—" He was cut off by a ripping sound.

Brennan had taken off her grey sweatshirt. She had already ripped half way through it. She hoped the strip of cloth would be big enough to wrap around him.

"Bones – isn't that your favorite sweatshirt?" He watched as she successfully ripped the cloth off.

"It was." She slightly nodded.

"You didn't have to ruin your favorite sweatshirt for me…" His lips formed a frown.

"I could always buy a new one." She bundled up her sweatshirt and placed her hand under Booth's head. "Here, use this as a pillow."

He felt her warm hand lift his head up higher. She placed her bundled up sweatshirt underneath and gently laid his head back down.

"Thanks." He flashed his charm smile.

"I'm going to have to lift your abdomen up in order to wrap the cloth around you." She told him.

Booth winced in pain. "Sounds painful."

"I can either help lift you up and place it under you or you're going to have to roll over on the cloth." She told him.

"I'd rather you lift me up." He knew rolling over would hurt his ribs. Just the thought of the pain surging through his body made it all surreal.

She placed her hand under his lower back. She watched his facial expressions, just in case the pain was unbearable for him. Even if it were, he would've never let her know through groans and screams of agony.

She lifted him up a bit more. "You okay?"

Booth felt the pain kick in. "Yeah." He gasped.

She tried to lift him up higher but he was a little heavy. She slowly lowered him and heavily sighed. "You're too heavy."

"Thanks, Bones. You know, you're lucky I'm not a girl or else I would've made fun of your torn up sweatshirt." He joked.

"I'm going to have to tie it under you." She told him.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

Brennan placed the cloth on his stomach and stretched her arm out. From his side, she leaned over and slid her arm under his lower back. Booth gasped in pain but the sight of his partner laying her head on his chest made it go away.

"Sorry." She breathed. "This will only take a minute."

"Doesn't hurt that much." He lied.

She slipped her other hand under his lower back and tried to connect both of her hands under the unseen tunnel his lower back made. For a couple of seconds she couldn't find the other hand. She turned her head to look at him and noticed he was watching her.

His sudden slight smile made her smile back.

"Sorry this is taking so long."

"As long as you don't poke me in the ribs, I'm fine." He gasped.

Brennan's hands connected under his back. As she tightly tied the cloth around his stomach and over the wound, she gently pressed her head against his chest, again. She securely tied it around his stomach and at the last second, she pulled on the ends of the cloth, making Booth gasp in pain.

She slid her hands out from under his lower back and glanced down at him. He wasn't in _extreme_ pain but just enough pain to make her feel bad. He got badly beaten up thanks to her stupid move. She just _had_ to nudge him about the darn metallic substance. She wanted to fracture her own ribs just to feel even.

"Booth… I'm really sorry." She frowned in sorrow.

"This isn't your fault Bones." He told her with a slight smile. She placed her hand on top of his stomach and pressed down. She could've pressed harder but she hated seeing him in pain. He placed his hand over hers and pressed down. He nearly gasped in pain.

"Booth—"

"What I really want to know," He paused, "is why you kept a picture of me in your bag."

"I didn't know I had it with me." She quietly responded.

"You're a terrible liar." He smirked.

"I—" She started out but the door abruptly burst open. Angela looked down at them with shocked widened eyes.

"They're down here!" Angela called out. "Bren, are you two okay?"

"Yeah." Brennan's smile quickly turned into a frown. "But Booth's hurt. Where are the paramedics!?"

"They're coming!" Angela shouted.

Brennan turned to Booth. Her one thousand volt smile suddenly appeared. He looked up at her and flashed his charm smile. He was happy to hear Angela's voice. He was happy to hear the paramedics rush down the wooden staircase.

He felt Brennan's hand slip away from his bleeding stomach. He watched as the paramedics crowded around him. Brennan disappeared from his vision. _Bones?_

END FLASHBACK------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Booth fluttered his eyes open. He looked down at his desk tray that hovered over his hospital bed and found a pudding cup sitting next to a spoon. He smiled in content and tried to reach for the mouth watering cup. Before he could even inch towards it, a hand reached out and took it from the desk.

Booth glanced over at his side and found Brennan sitting there in the chair. His lips slowly formed a nice wide smile. He missed her; Angela was good company but his partner, his Bones, was even better. _No offense, Angela._

"Bones." He breathed.

Brennan opened the pudding cup and handed it to him. She then grabbed the spoon and carefully slipped it in his hand.

"Hey sleepy head." She widened her smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Pain killers are kicking in." He responded. He fed himself a spoonful of pudding.

"The FBI took over the case. They're searching for Kamp and the other four." She informed Booth.

"So you rushed to the Jeffersonian for nothing?" He glanced over at her.

Her small smile turned into a deep frown. "I'm sorry, Booth. I didn't mean to just run off like that, I–I just needed some time alone."

"I understand, Bones." He nodded. "After what happened today, you should get some rest yourself."

"I'll stay here." She insisted.

"You don't have to." He responded quietly before giving himself some pudding.

"I _want_ to." Brennan smiled. "I don't want to leave your side until you get better."

"Did you talk to the doctors about my discharge?"

"No." She shook her head and shot him a look. "Even after a week, you'd still have to stay here."

"What!?" He gasped. He winced in pain as his fractured ribs kicked themselves. "I have to stay here for _more_ than a week!?"

"A month, probably."

"A month!?" He winced in pain again.

"I said probably." She heavily sighed.

"Why can't you take me home? You can stay at my apartment and be my nurse." He paused. Brennan was about to respond but he cut her off. "And I don't mean that sexually."

"What I was going to say was… It's probably best to leave it to the professionals." She told him. "And I did not find that suggestion in any way sexual until you mentioned it."

"Please, Bones…" He whined.

"It's better if you stay in the hospital. If you went home, you'd fidget and move all over the place. Here, in the hospital, they pressure you into not moving." She told him. "I don't see why you want to go home anyways. I find it very relaxing."

"Yeah, relaxing," He rolled his eyes, "until the nurses start nagging you about your girlfriend who is actually your partner." He whispered to himself.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." He lightly smiled.

"Stay here. For me." She frowned.

"C'mon Bones. I'm not that hard to take care of." He winced in pain. It felt like his insides were going to jump out from his belly button. It was a horrible feeling. He wanted something stronger that pain killers.

"You're in massive pain, Booth." She heavily sighed.

"Please." He whined. "I promise, if you get me out of here, I'll do anything – I'll give you anything!"

Brennan raised an eyebrow and was about to say something but he cut her off. He pointed his index finger in her direction. "Except a gun."

"You don't have to promise me anything, Booth." She gently laughed. "I'll try to persuade the doctor to discharge you."

He widened his smile and played with the bed sheets in between his index and middle finger. "So that picture of me…" He hinted.

"It's either that or being discharged." She warned him.

"Bones." He groaned. "Just explain to me why you kept it. It doesn't take that long. A simple answer would suffice. Not even a paragraph, maybe a sentence or two—"

"I don't know why I kept it." She gasped.

He looked up at her with curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "So it just so happens to be in your bag at that time?"

"Well –" She tried to respond but he cut her off again.

"Angela told me that she gave you pictures of me numerous times but you either left them on her desk or threw them away." He watched as she looked away. "Why'd you keep this one?"

She kept silent for a couple minutes.

"Do I get an answer or should we just leave it be?" He heavily sighed.

"For now Booth, we should." She slightly nodded with a small frown. Brennan stood up from her seat. "I'll talk to the doctor and see if I can pull some strings."

"Thanks Bones." He widened his smile.

"Mhm." She hummed. She walked out of the hospital room and made her way down the hall.

Booth sat there with his arm in the sling and his right arm in his lap. He rested his head against the blue pillow and proceeded to look out his window. The solid blue sky changed light blue. He saw birds landing in front of the window with their heads tilting every which way. _Bones, you seem to always clear my sky up._


	3. Chapter 3

Booth fluttered his eyes open. He looked down at his lap and saw the white bed sheets. He glanced over at the tan chair and slowly frowned. _Was that a dream?_ Brennan wasn't there, his partner wasn't there to comfort him, and no one was there. He glanced down at his desk tray and saw an empty cup of pudding. _It wasn't a dream?_

Brennan walked in and stopped at the threshold. Her lips formed a gentle smile. She watched as Booth stared at the pudding cup in front of him.

"Did you want another one?" She abruptly asked him, cutting the silence.

He whipped his head around to face her. A wide smile suddenly appeared on his face. "Bones." He gasped.

"I talked to the doctors. They said they'll let you go tomorrow." She informed him.

"So it wasn't a dream…" He whispered to himself.

"Huh?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Nothing." He shook his head.

"Visiting hours is almost over." She heavily sighed.

He slightly widened his eyes and looked up at her. "Don't leave."

"I don't think the nurses will like it if I stay." Brennan crooked the side of her mouth.

"Please stay with me." He begged.

"I don't know where I'd sleep, Booth." She felt a small smile form.

"You could sleep next to me." He smirked. "The bed is big enough for the two of us."

"No." She quickly responded.

The hospital beds were quite huge. For some reason, his hospital bed wasn't a normal one. It could've been the newer models or it could've been a special room. His hospital bed looked like a queen sized bed but a little smaller. Maybe a twin sized hospital bed.

A nurse walked in on them. "Excuse me, Miss, visiting hours are over."

Brennan turned to her and then to Booth. Those puppy dog eyes got to her. He flashed his charm smile in attempts to persuade her. She hated those special features of his. Those eyes and that smile could get anything in the world.

"I'm going to be staying with him tonight." She told the nurse. Booth's smile extended. He enjoyed her company even if most of their time together contained nothing but bickering.

"You'll have to sign in if you want to stay over night." The nurse told her.

"Okay." Brennan flashed a quick smile in Booth's direction before trailing behind the nurse.

After a couple of minutes, she returned. Booth looked up at her and watched as she sat down on the chair.

"Thanks, Bones."

"No problem, Booth." Her lips formed a sweet smile.

He looked up at the clock mounted at the top of the threshold. "It's only 9 o'clock."

"Is there anything you want to do to pass some time or are you in need of some sleep?" She politely asked him.

"I've slept all day, Bones. Maybe we could play a game." He suggested.

"What game do you have in mind?" She curiously asked him.

"Remember last week during our last session with Sweets? He said something about a game that he wanted to try on his but we never got to it." He tried to piece together the memories.

"He said something about responding to the other person." She narrowed her eyes in thought.

"So I say a word and you respond?" He raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Respond as in explain—"

"Respond as in say what ever pops into your mind." He explained to her.

"Sleep." Brennan quickly announced.

"I meant after I say my word." The corner of his mouth perked up. He absolutely adored the way she took things in the literal sense. The way her nose wrinkled when she speaks too soon and the way she always falls under his spell – he felt like hugging her.

"Oh, sorry." She nervously smiled.

He smirked. "Java."

"Computer." She looked up in thought.

"Geek." He raised his eyebrows.

"Glasses."

"Thirst."

"Sex."

"Whoa."

"Horse."

"Cowboy." He widened his smile.

"Whispering of cowboy—" She turned her body to reach into her purse that sat on the what looked like a night stand.

"You mean speaking of?" He smirked.

"Yeah, that." She took out three pudding cups and a spoon. "I walked by the cafeteria and got you some more pudding." Brennan put them on the desk try.

"Aw, thanks Bones." His glanced down at the pudding. "I don't know what pudding has to do with cowboys but thanks anyways."

"Cowboys reminded me of cows and the colors of cows, black and white, reminded me of the pudding." She answered.

"Not all cows are black and white."

"Well brown is close to black. The pudding was dark brown and white, I guess."

"In any case, I thank you for trying to make me fat by giving me more pudding." He joked.

"Sorry I interrupted the game – so what was the last word?"

"It's okay Bones. Sweets' game was stupid anyways." He joked.

"What do you want to do now?"

"Want to play truth or dare?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Truth or dare?"

"Yeah. We both take turns asking each other truth or dare. If you chose truth then the person asks you a question and you have to give an one hundred percent honest answer and if you chose dare then you have to do what the person asks you to do." He explained to her.

"No lying?" She slightly frowned.

"Nope." He shook his head.

"So I don't have a choice to do or not do the dare?"

"Nope." He said again.

"This game isn't going to work." She breathed.

"Why not?"

"Because you can't move, Booth. You're supposed to stay in bed. If I dare you to run around the hospital, naked, you wouldn't be able to do it." She informed him.

"After you said that, Bones, a part of me is glad that I can barely move." He joked. He widened his smile and shifted his position on the bed. He didn't have to be dared by her. He'd do anything she asked him to anyways.

"Very funny." She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, you can only ask me truth questions, okay?" He tried to compromise with her.

"Okay." She nodded. "Want to go first?"

"You can go first." He insisted.

"Okay. How many of the girlfriends you had in high school would you marry today?" Brennan curiously asked.

Booth looked up at the ceiling in thought. _How many of them I would marry? Jeeze, Bones, you really want to know?_ He stared at the white popcorn tiled ceiling and slowly smiled. He glanced down at her and slightly shrugged.

"I'd probably say two of them."

"Out of?"

"Out of a lot." He smirked.

"How come only two?" She wanted to mentally slap herself for prying into his personal life.

"Out of the many I've dated, only two of them were really down to earth. The others were pretty and interesting but they didn't seem like wife material." He responded with a small smile. "Your turn."

Brennan nodded. No matter what she would chose truth. She didn't want to run around the hospital late at night. It'd bring too many consequences and probably the police.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth." She answered.

"Oh C'mon Bones, let me have some fun. Chose dare." He wanted to nudge, poke and prod her until she gave in but his shoulder was still sore.

"Truth." She sternly looked at him.

"Fine." He groaned. "Let me think of a question."

"Nothing embarrassing." She hoped.

"How many boyfriends did you have in high school?" He asked.

"Booth—"

"You asked me about my girlfriends in high school so now I'm asking about yours."

"I didn't have any." She told him.

"What?" Booth blinked in confusion. _A beautiful woman like her didn't have a boyfriend in high school?_

"I did not have a boyfriend in high school." She told him again.

"I told you lying wasn't an option in this game—"

"I'm not lying." Brennan swallowed slowly. "Why is it so hard to believe that I didn't have a boyfriend in high school?"

"Because I—" He tried to finish his sentence but she cut him off.

"You already asked your question. You're not getting anything else out from me."

"Fine…" He whined. "Ask your question."

"What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?" She licked her lips with curiosity.

"What!? Do you really want to know that?" He furrowed his eyebrows. He knew he was going to regret the next couple minutes.

"C'mon Booth, you _have_ to tell me, and no lying."

"Gah!" Booth groaned. _Do I have to!?_

"I'm starting to _really_ like this game." Brennan smirked.

"Just don't laugh at me, okay?" He asked politely.

"Can I laugh if it's really hilarious?"

"No." He glanced over at her sternly.

"Okay, okay. I won't laugh."

"When I was in high school… the hottest girl in the school asked me out—"

"Don't the guys usually ask the girls out?"

"Only gutsy girls ask the guys out." He told her. "I told her yes since she was incredibly hot." He glanced over at his partner and saw her roll her eyes.

"Did she do something to you right after?"

"No." He slowly said. "She did something while we were on a date."

"Oh…" Brennan's lips formed a sad smile. "You don't have to tell me if you don't—"

"No, I told you there was no lying in this game and I have to abide by the rules."

Brennan crooked the side of her mouth. "Booth…"

"We went on a date that night. She asked to go to this restaurant and all of her friends were there." He stared down at his dislocated arm. "She asked me to get the food while she got a table. I paid for the food and she got the table. I walked towards the table but one of her friends tripped me. Next thing I knew, my face was covered in our food."

Brennan's mouth drew open. She didn't have any words to say nor did she feel a giggle coming on. She felt bad for him. His story wasn't filed into the 'Booth's most embarrassing moments' category in her mind. She wanted to stop him but he insisted on going on.

"You don't—"

"She broke up with me the day after. I later found out that she had a bet with her friend. She bet that she could handle one date with me. I was laughed at by all of her friends for a month. No matter how popular you are, Bones, there are still people out there that get a kick out of your own pain." He looked over at her and saw her sad face. She didn't show signs of laughter.

"I'm sorry." She breathed.

"Truth or dare?" He asked.

"Dare." Brennan gasped.

Booth wasn't surprised that she chose dare. He expected it. "I dare you to hug me."

She didn't speak at all. Her lips formed a small, sweet smile. She stood up, walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She rested her head on top of his and gently squeezed him. Booth slowly moved his right arm to grasp her forearm. They both shared a silent moment.


	4. Chapter 4

"Bones!" Booth breathed. He was running towards her voice. He heard her scream. His legs felt cold and his shoes were soaking wet. _Why is this happening?_ He was running out of breath, he could feel his hands go numb. His holster was rubbing against his side. His right hand's index finger wasn't on the side of the gun anymore, it was on the trigger. He breathed harder and ran faster. He heard her scream again.

"Bones, where are you!?" He screamed. _Damn it, Bones, why didn't you stick by my side when I told you to!?_ Booth ran as fast as he could but it seemed like he had already lost her, for some reason. He saw light shining from a nearby door and immediately trusted his gut and bust through.

"Bones!" He shouted again, opening his eyes from the impact. He felt his heart race until he saw the bloody scene that stabbed his eyes repeatedly. Brennan was bleeding front every limb. Blood pooled beneath her. In front of him was Kamp. He was gripping a bloody knife as if he had just been congratulated with a role in a horror movie.

* * *

"Bones?" Booth fluttered his eyes open. He woke up in the hospital, facing the sunny scenery. He quickly turned his head, making his head ache even worse. He saw his partner with her head on his bed and her hand holding his. She slept at a very uncomfortable position. She was still sitting in her chair. Some of her hair covered her face. _She's so beautiful._

"Rise and shine you two." Hodgins came in with a tray full of pudding and some breakfast fresh from the cafeteria.

Brennan fluttered her eyes open and gently removed her hand from his. A part of him wanted to yank her hand back its original position but since Hodgins was there, he forced himself to be professional.

"Hm?" Brennan groaned. "It's morning already?"

"Yup. Breakfast time. Some bacon and eggs for you, Dr. Brennan, and twelve pudding cups for you, Booth." He placed the tray on the stand that rotated itself around to hover over Booth's legs.

He looked down at the pudding cups and licked his lips. "Did you get utensils?" He asked Hodgins.

"Oh—crap! I knew I forgot something. Hold on, I'll be right back." In a matter of milliseconds, Hodgins was gone.

"Mm." Brennan muttered, still recovering from her sleep.

"You awake there, Bones?" He asked her with a wide smile.

"Yeah…" She slowly said. "…How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Not worse than yesterday. I have a small head ache." He responded.

"A head ache?" She asked, sounding more concerned than usual.

"Yeah, why?" He glanced over at her.

"You sure you don't have a fever?" She got up and gently placed her hand on his forehead.

"I'm pretty sure I don't—"

"How come you're sweating?" Brennan furrowed her eyebrows, looking down at him in confusion.

"Bad dream." He breathed.

"About what?"

He pressed his lips together and thought about all the blood, Kamp… and her gruesome body. He could bare to think about that crap any longer. "Nothing."

"Booth, if it was enough to make you sweat, then maybe it's worth telling—I'm sure Sweets could analyze your dream and help you—" Booth cut her off.

"Kamp murdered you." He looked down at his lap before looking back up at her. Her mouth was ajar. "I had a dream that he murdered you."

"Booth…" She gasped. If she had a dream about Booth dying, she probably wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. He stared into her eyes and gently shook his head.

"Please, don't tell Sweets." He breathed.

Hodgins walked into the room with the utensils and some napkins. "Okay," Brennan nodded. "I won't." She lifted her hand off his forehead and heard Hodgins walking towards them from the door way.

"I got the utensils." Hodgins smiled at the pair. He noticed their gloomy faces and saddened looks. "Everything okay?" he asked, concerned about both of them.

"Yeah." Brennan nodded, grabbing her breakfast, a fork and a napkin from the tray. She sat down in the chair and quietly ate her meal. Booth reached for a pudding cup but his shoulder abruptly started to throb.

"Ow!" He yelped and quickly retracted his arm. Brennan looked up at him in surprise. She saw his face scrunch up in pain.

"Booth?" She asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He gasped in pain. "My shoulder just hurts."

"You know, Booth, maybe you shouldn't be discharged so soon." Brennan got up and placed her breakfast back down on the tray.

"Booth was going to be discharged _today_!?" Hodgins widened his eyes. He looked at Booth and then Brennan.

"He made me talk to the doctors about it." She quickly told him, grabbing the pudding cup for Booth. She handed it to him and he crooked a smile.

"Thanks, Bones." He told her, looking up at her. He grabbed the pudding cup and felt the tips of her fingers graze against his own. She grabbed a spoon, dug it into the pudding and fed him a spoonful.

"I'll talk to the doctors, make sure they don't let you go today." She told him.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows at her with a mouthful of pudding.

"Booth, your shoulder hurts. You should let the doctors help you get better." Brennan told him, sitting back down in the chair.

He swallowed the pudding that was in his mouth. "You promised!"

"I'm not going to let you leave if it's going to risk your health." She sternly told him.

"Bones—"

"I'll go talk to the doctor." She told Hodgins and him. She got up from her seat and walked towards the hall. Once she hit the hall, she took a right.

"Hodgins, convince her that I'm okay to go home." Booth turned to Hodgins.

He held up his hands in defense. "Whoa, dude, no way am I getting into this."

"If you just tell her—"

"Personally, I don't think you're ready to go home."

"What? It's just my shoulder. It'll get better in a couple weeks." Booth tried to convince him.

He lowered his hands, made a slight smile and shook his head. "This is Dr. Brennan's decision, not mine. I don't want to convince her that you, the man that got brutally beat up _to protect her_, wants to go home after being hospitalized for a couple days."

Booth pressed his lips together and looked down at the pudding cups that laid there on the tray in front of him.

"She loves you." Hodgins told him. Booth looked up at him once he heard that certain word; his eyes started to twinkle. "Everyone knows she loves you and right now, I know even you can see it. You _have_ to let her have this one. She beats herself up everyday because of what happened. Maybe staying in the hospital will make her feel calm."

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "If I stay in here, I won't be able to protect her."

"Protect her from what?" Hodgins furrowed his eyebrows.

"From Kamp." Booth gasped. He hated to say that god forsaken name. He wanted to wash his mouth out with soap.

"The FBI is taking over the case, right? She should be fine—"

"I had a dream that he killed Bones." He looked up at Hodgins and saw his shocked expression burgeon. "I just want to make sure that she'll be okay."

"Do you actually believe your dream will come true?"

"No but I believe it enough to think that something bad will happen to her if I leave her alone." Booth told him, adjusting in his seat. He squinted in pain once his left arm moved in its sling.

Brennan walked into the room. Hodgins looked over at her and then at Booth. He gave Hodgins a painful look. Brennan stopped at the foot of Booth's hospital bed.

"I talked to the doctors. They also thought it wasn't good for you to be discharged today. You'll be staying here for at least a few weeks." She told them.

Booth looked up at Hodgins and he caught his glance. "Um…" Hodgins started out. He then turned to Brennan. "…Maybe it's safer if Booth goes home with you."

"What?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Booth is in a lot of pain—"

"I understand that—it just seems better… if Booth… went with you." He looked at Booth and then Brennan. Booth made a small smile and looked up at Brennan and then Hodgins.

"Did Booth threaten to shoot you with a gun, again?" Brennan asked, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

"What? No. I don't _always _do that." Booth responded with a slight frown. Both Hodgins and she looked down at him. They gave him a look. "Do I?" He furrowed his eyebrows up at them.

"The point is," Brennan continued. "Booth will be discharged when the doctors think it's okay for him to go home."

Booth pressed his lips together and started to shake his head. "You know about the dream, Bones. I'm just worried about your life—"

"I know, Booth. I know." She told him. Brennan reached for his hand and touched it delicately. Thank god his left hand was in the sling instead of his right. Booth gave her a small smile and moved his hand to grasp hers. Hodgins looked at their hands before widening his eyes. He started to look up at the ceiling.

"Whoa," He gasped. "It's a popcorn type ceiling." Hodgins tried to make the moment less awkward for him. "Interesting."

"I'll stay in this hospital as long as they have pudding." He joked. Brennan widened her smile and patted his hand.

"I actually have to get back to the Jeffersonian." She looked at Hodgins. "Thanks for the food, Dr. Hodgins. I'll eat it on the way." She took the fork and the plate of bacon and eggs. "I'll be back soon."

Booth nodded waved good-bye with his good arm.

"I'll be at the Jeffersonian soon, Dr. Brennan." Hodgins told her.

"Mhm." She hummed before walking out the door and into the hall.

Booth's smile disappeared after she left. He looked up at Hodgins with a very serious look. "You better make sure she's safe."

"Me?" Hodgins pointed to himself in surprise.

"Yes, you. I don't care of the FBI is on the case or not. Kamp is a dangerous person and the only way to get to the bureau or me is though Bones. If he gets _his hands on her_, he can get whatever he wants." Booth told him with a stern voice.

"…Because she's your partner or because you love her?" A sly smile formed on Hodgins' face.

"What—?" Booth's eyes started to widen. "I never—yes, she's my partner—"

"You enjoy your pudding." Hodgins pushed the tray of pudding closer to him and waved good-bye. He watched as the curly haired man walked out of his room and towards the main desk. Booth looked down at his pudding and frowned. He dug his spoon in the cup of pudding and started talking to himself.

"I don't always threaten to shoot people…" He murmured to himself. After eating one spoonful, he dug into the pudding again, feeling a bit lonely since both his partner and Hodgins left him.


	5. Chapter 5

Brennan walked through the Jeffersonian doors and entered the lab. She had her bag near her side and a cup of coffee in her left hand. She sipped it before Angela joined her on her walk to her office.

"So, how's Booth?" Angela asked, walking next to her best friend.

"He's okay – a little bummed that he didn't get discharged today." Brennan responded.

"Well of course he's bummed. He just wants to make sure you're okay. If I had a dream that you got murdered by some deranged killer, that's still being chased by the FBI, I'd buy ten German Shepherds and train them to attack serial killers and partner-beaters." She responded with a wide smile. Brennan glanced over at her and chuckled.

"You realize it would take at least half a year to successfully train all ten German Shepherds?"

Angela nodded and started to muffle a laugh. She liked how she was so rational about that scenario. "I do realize that, Brennan."

"Wait—how did you know about that dream?"

"Hodgins texted me." Angela said, getting her phone out, showing her the text. Brennan glanced over at the phone and read the message.

"Booth told Hodgins?" Brennan furrowed her eyebrows and glanced at her best friend. Angela shrugged and tucked her phone back into her lab coat pocket.

"Do you want a rational guess?" Angela raised an eyebrow at her.

"A rational guess would be nice in this situation." She responded.

They turned the corner of the forensic lab and towards her office. Her office was dark and locked. No one had been in there since she left the other night. Brennan dug deep in her messenger bag and grabbed her keys.

"A rational guess would be that Booth didn't want you to feel unprotected so he told Hodgins about the dream so that he could hint to Hodgins that he wants him to protect you. Hodgins then told me so I'd look out for you, too." She told her, watching Brennan open her office door.

"Booth knows the Jeffersonian is heavily guarded. I don't see why he thinks I need protection." Brenan responded, walking into her office and setting her bag down near her desk.

"It's Booth, hun. He's the type of guy that'd care about your life twenty-four seven." Angela leaned against the threshold, still talking to her. Brennan looked up at her, rolling her eyes, a bit. "And he loves you, so…" A wide smile crept onto Angela's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Angela." She responded quite fast.

"Uh-huh. Right, well when you do _know what I'm talking about_, don't run away. Booth is a great guy." Angela folded her arms across her chest.

"Angela, can you tell Cam to give me the case file? I also need her notes from the autopsy." Brennan avoided the subject.

"Sure but don't think you've weaseled your way out of this conversation." Angela darted her index finger at her and eventually turned around, making her way towards Cam's office.

Brennan sat there, watching her best friend exit her office. She let out a huge sigh and immediately drowned herself in her work. It was the only thing that'd make her _not_ think about Booth and the whole entire situation although, Booth in the hospital, in pain, always troubled her mind. It wasn't something she wanted to forget. It was just something she wanted to go away so she wouldn't feel the guilt rest on her shoulders. And then there was the whole entire incident with Booth's picture.

"Ugh…" Brennan let out one huge sigh and banged her head against her desk, like in the movie she saw. "Ow… that did not feel right."

* * *

"Are the FBI still after us?" Kamp asked, walking out of the hall. He and his henchmen were inside an old apartment that had been rent to him under a fake name.

Maxwell sat on the couch with Fred. Roy stood near the bar covered window, looking down at all the people, making sure that no one looked suspicious. Maxwell was on his computer and Fred peered at his monitor every other minute or two. Jim sat at the kitchen table, reloading and checking out all their guns weapons. He basically had to make sure no evidence of blood was left on their tools.

"The FBI are still tracking us. A van is driving around 5th street and Calmic Avenue." Maxwell responded.

"It's a good thing we bugged their van." Kamp responded, grazing his hand against the gun Jim was reloading.

"What do we do now? The FBI will start to get suspicious if we take our regular vehicle." Fred asked his boss.

"We can always cause a scene and just blow their heads off." Roy glared at them, still reloading all of their guns.

"Shut up, Roy. You blood thirsty little—" Jim snapped at him.

"Fuck you!" Roy screamed. "You do nothing! I was the one trying to kill him. You were all scared of killing an FBI Agent. You realize we could've taken the damn girl and held her as prisoner. It would only drag that damn agent into our hands!"

"You little bitch—" Maxwell screamed at him. He was about to get up and walk over to knock some sense into him but Kamp intervened.

"I think Roy has a good point." Kamp looked over at Roy and saw his devilish expression. He then looked over at Maxwell with a slight smile.

"Pack everything up and don't say a word to anyone. Fred, get our car ready and give it a nice new paint job down in the garage. We're going to give the doctor a little visit." Kamp widened his smile and went back into the hallway.

Once Maxwell heard the door close after Kamp, he walked up to Roy and grabbed his collar. "You fucking little bitch. When Kamp is out of our sight, I'm going to skin you alive." He shoved him and made his hip bump into the table.

"You're just a little pussy, Maxwell." Roy chuckled. "There's no way you could do the things I've done. You're just the lackey. Kamp hired me to do the dirty work. If you want to kill me, you're going to have to become a murderer."

"I don't need to become you to kill you." Maxwell got into his face again.

"I killed my father." Roy told him with the worst smile in history. "Have you killed anyone that you loved?"

"You're sick." Maxwell growled at him.

"Stop it you two." Fred yelled. He got up and separated them. He pushed them apart with his hands on their chests. Jim eventually got up and helped Fred. "We're supposed to have the same goals as Kamp. Killing his brother was only the beginning."

"You guys can kill each other after Kamp is dead." Jim said, standing next to Fred.

Maxwell and Roy looked at each other. Roy was a heartless human. All he could do was think about the action and the pleasure of killing his other half. Maxwell frowned at the sight of his ugly face. He stepped away and towards the couch. Once he sat down, he watched the others disperse from the area. Jim went back to cleaning their tools. Fred walked towards the bathroom. Maxwell glanced over at Roy and saw him still smiling like a clown. Once he shook his head at him, Roy went back to standing next to the door, just itching for some real action.

* * *

Booth sat there, looking down at his cup of coffee that balanced in his lap. He saw the swirls of brown and then the little marshmallows that swirled with it. He felt someone come into his room. He looked up and saw a big figure standing at the threshold. Booth furrowed his eyebrows and let out a sigh.

"What are you doing here, Jared?" He pressed his lips together.

Jared walked into his room from the doorway and had his arms crossed against his chest. "Tempe called me last night. She said you got beat up. She then said you ended up in the hospital—and that's when I decided to come here and see you—because you rarely go to hospitals." He looked over at the tray that was set on Booth's stand. He saw a dozen pudding cups there. "I guess they really treat you here, may I have one?" Jared was about to reach for one but Booth stretched his arm out to block him.

Booth felt his shoulder give out a jolt of pain. He winced and angrily looked up at his baby brother.

"Tell me what you're doing here. You usually call first." He said, still guarding his pudding.

Jared held up his hands in defense and nodded. "Okay, okay. I get it. I'll just get my own pudding from the cafeteria." He pulled up a chair and sat next to Booth's bed.

"Tempe didn't call you." Booth let his right arm relax next to his side. Once he left his pudding unguarded, Jared quickly snatched one and a plastic spoon. He quickly took a bite and groaned.

"Oh god, _that_ is _the_ best pudding – I've ever tasted. Mmm!" He looked at the cup and took another bite. "Dang, I think I'll stay here too."

"Jared." Booth sternly called his name. Jared looked up at him and saw that serious face. He crooked the side of his mouth and put down the pudding cup. He cleaned the spoon and held it in his hand. He pointed at him with it.

"You're in deep trouble."

"What?" Booth furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"I went to a random club with some of my pals the other night and these five people in a booth were talking about you and Tempe." Jared told him, lowering the spoon.

"What'd they talk about?" Booth's mouth was ajar. He was ready for the worst. Just by looking at Jared's serious expression, he could tell something bad was about to happen.

"They were talking about Tempe and how they were going to kill her."

Booth widened his eyes in shock. His mouth opened wider. He felt his palms begin to sweat. His shoulder began to hurt and his left arm began to fidget. He wanted to get out of the hospital so badly. He looked over at Jared and pressed his lips together.

"You're going to help me out of this damn hospital." Booth unplugged himself from all of the machines that were attached to him. He slowly swung his legs off the bed. He heavily breathed, feeling all of the pain spread throughout his body.

Jared got out of his char and widened his eyes. "Are you sure—"

"Jared, you came over here to tell me that those bastards are planning to kill my partner. Do you seriously expect me to do nothing!?" He almost yelled at him.

"Okay, okay." Jared tried to help is brother off the hospital bed.

"Ouch—Crap!" Booth muffled a scream. He felt his ribs throb in pain. He grasped his side with his right and doubled over.

"Booth?" Jared asked. "If you're not up to it—"

"Get me my clothes and help me get changed." Booth let the pain subside. Jared walked over to the corner of the room and got his clothes.

"You better be wearing boxers under that hospital gown."


End file.
